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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24098872">midnight love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misul/pseuds/Misul'>Misul</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>One Shot, Other, POV Second Person, Possibly Unrequited Love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:35:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>870</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24098872</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misul/pseuds/Misul</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>you never anticipated that meeting them would evolve into something like this.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>What We've Lost</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>midnight love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>mentions drugs and alcohol but not in detail</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It starts off as seeing them for the first time. They seem average, with their chunky shoes and oversized choice in clothing. It is still somehow form fitting, and gives them a vibe that you seem oddly drawn to. They stick around inside of your memory.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>The more you meet them, the more you discover. They love gaming - even though they say that they suck at it. Eventually you find out they mostly play first person shooters. Sports becomes a talking topic at one point, and you and your friends list sports you’d love to play in your spare time. You wait for their answer, and find out that it's basketball. Everyone else agrees, and soon, arrangements are made for a friendly match down at the local park. The arrangement however, falls apart, as everyone is busy with homework, or has just forgotten. You all promise to come over another time when everyone is happy about the meeting time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You haven’t had WiFi in quite a while - since the beginning of the year - and you want to speak to them. You wanna play with them, even if your computer can't run their games. At least there's Minecraft. And it sucks - because your data is ever so precious in the time of online classes. You agree to a game of skribble.io, and it takes off a whopping half of your monthly allowance. You apologise for having to only play one game, but it’s what has to be done. They seem sad, and even crack a joke about letting you live at their house so you’d have WiFi.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In biology class you’d be in awe of how smart they sound. They answer questions with impeccable accuracy, and score slightly higher in tests that you. Yet they imply they are not mentally stable and then play it off as a joke. You laugh along.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>At this point, you’re good friends. You talk to each other once in a while, and call them to listen to them playing a game. You hear them crack open an energy drink, and absentmindedly wonder how many they’ve had today. It seems that it is all they live on. They drop you a question about weed and getting drunk with them, and you pause for a moment. “I’d have some adverse effects, but we could get drunk.” You say to them, and get met with a response that seemingly shocks you. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d be there if you had a bad trip.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>More days go by, and all these ripped memories come together. They were previously unarranged, mixed up into a mush of experiences. First, the meeting, then, the biology class, the alcohol and drugs, then the basketball game, then the online gaming, and lastly, the online classes. It isn’t regular, these feelings. They aren’t friendship, or just being classmates.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Girl in red has just released her new song - midnight love. All you can think of while listening to it is them. They’re all you see. Your memories of sitting in the college lobby playing uno, or just all sitting in near silence as you all recharge your social batteries after a particularly laborious class. All the times you went out at lunch to get a snack from a shop that is a couple of minutes away from the college building, or when your group went off to beat some Pokemon gyms in the heart of town, and grab a couple of creatures along the way. The time you and them went off to an abandoned building to explore it, and laughed at the fact that there was no way in, so you took some cool pictures of the exterior and called it a day. That one day after your birthday where you all went to a hardware store and sat in the empty hot tub and listened to music, scared that security would come and tell us off. Security passed by us, and never said anything. Eventually, you explored the hardware store, and made good memories of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The conscious thought of them being in your mind, constantly, while listening to that song, feels debilitating. It's like you can't even listen to a snippet of that song without their face popping into your mind. But you make peace with it, eventually. These things take time.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>You’ve cried over the fact that you’d never be enough for them. That you’re insignificant compared to them. You could never match their humour, their wits, their vibe, you couldn’t match anything. Your body isn't good enough for them, your mind isn't as sharp as theirs - like heck, you even think they’ve got their life together better than you do. You don’t even know their sexuality. Yet they’re there, just existing and you still know you’re not enough even for that. In comparison to you, they’re miles outside of your league, so you give up. But the ghost and the shadow of what you’ve felt lingers, and it feels like opening an old wound every time. The experiences, the jokes, the platonic flirting, everything. Hopefully, as prevention, you bottle it up and wish to throw it away.</span>
  <span></span><br/>
<span><br/>
</span>
  <span>As a fleeting last attempt, you change your discord status. “I can be your midnight love.”</span>
</p>
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